Sleeves
by Karen Winchester
Summary: AU. Trigger warning developed inside. Mention of self-harm and suicide. Story set in S14. Jack died, and Sam was not doing as good as his family thought. Desperate to bring the Nephilim back,the younger Winchester takes a very bad decision. Will Dean and Cass find him in time? Depressed!Sam Protective!Dean Protective!Castiel Death!Fic.
1. Chapter 1

Sleeves

 **TRIGGER WARNING:** ** _THIS FICTION INCLUDES SENSIBLE TOPICS, SUCH AS DEPRESSION, SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE_** **. IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE RIGHT CONDITION TO READ THIS STORY, PLEASE SKIP THIS STORY AND REACH OUT FOR HELP. YOU ARE NOT ALONE IN THIS FIGHT. I, THE AUTHOR OF THIS STORY, SELF-HARM TOO, AND THROUGH THIS FIC, I DECIDE TO LET SOME LIGHT INSIDE MY MIND. JUST TO BE CLEAR, I KNOW THAT SELF-HARM DOES NOT MAKE ANY GOOD. THROUGH SAM'S POV, I WILL GIVE THESE THOUGHTS LIFE AND A VOICE, SO THEY CAN BE HEARD. IF YOU HAVE A MINUTE, PLEASE REVIEW THIS FIC. REVIEWS ARE LOVE! :)**

 **HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIC :)**

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 **"The blade sings to me. Faintly, so soft against my ears, its voice calms my worries and tells me that one touch will take it all away. It tells me that I just need to slide a long horizontal cut, and make a clean slice. It tells me the words that I have been begging to hear: this will make it ok."**

 **― Amanda Steele, The Cliff**

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Sam was the one that saw Jack's last breath before his chest went still and his body stopped moving. The young Nephilim's hands, resting at each side of his body, were now getting colder, and Sam was trying to keep himself from falling apart in front of Dean and Cass. Jack was dead. Jack was fucking dead and he could not do anything to bring him back. Depressing thoughts took him back to the times where he was looking for his possessed brother, pretending to be okay, being the leader of many apocalypse survivors that needed to learn how to hunt properly without being killed in the process, and also the memories of himself drinking coffee to keep himself awake through endless days and nights. Nothing could fill the void inside his chest, consuming all the oxygen in the environment that sorrounded him.

He lost count of the panic attacks he had had in silence, as his tired eyes focused on the screen of his laptop one more time, doing what he knew the most, researching for new hunts or for a hint of Michael doing whatever he planned to do on this new universe.

Now, Dean was back, and when he felt complete again, the kid he practically raised along with Dean and Cass stopped breathing in front of his eyes, while Cass was talking to his brother, trying to convince him to stay next to him as he died. Sam didn't know how many hours he spent reading books about the Lord for answers to his thousand questions, or the calls he made to Rowena in the middle of the night to, magically, try to find another way to save him. He found nothing but desperation and anger though. There was nothing he could have done, right? He had to accept that, but he couldn't even look at his loved ones without being teary-eyed, feeling guilty and ashamed of himself for feeling so defeated. He had stopped a damn apocalypse, yet he couldn't save the ones he loved. His unconscious self kept repeating the same sentence over and over again, even though he tried ignore his messed up inner voice.

 _Bleed to make it right._

 _Bleed to make it right._

 _Bleed to make it right._

His mind travelled through the bunker, making a quick tour towards his room, focusing on the small blade hidden away inside one of his favorite books, where no one could find it. If Dean knew about his new self-harm habit, he'd kick his ass. He could go to his room and feel better for a few hours, but his conscious self was the one that was stopping him from doing it, telling him that it was dangerous to be near Dean or Cass when in need to do it. They didn't know about it, and he didn't want to let them down too. He hadn't cut since the day Dean came back home, after being possessed by the Archangel Michael. Sam made a promise to himself. He promised he would stop cutting, he promised to be stronger than a toxic ' coping skill' to survive. Apparently, keeping that promise alive was way more difficult than he initially thought.

Sam could almost feel the relieve he needed when the tip of the blade was against his arm, that under a certain ammount of pressure, penetrated his skin; blood starting to cover the hurt area. It made him feel good, almost like when he was drinking demon blood while Dean was in hell, another period of time when he was as useless as a cop. Some things had changed since then, too,if he gave the past a place on his mind and took the time to analyze the differences. One of those differences was that he was not the same naive young man that thought he could do good things on this planet on his own. Another one was that he knew now that, sometimes, good intentions could lead to hell before you reached heaven with dirty hands, covered in blood of innocent people.

He needed his brother, and his brother needed him too. Cass and Jack joined them along the way, being a team as the years went by, becoming their family. "Team Free Will 2.0", as Dean would say.

 _ **"Alright, well. Two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead... again. Team Free Will 2.0, here we go."**_

When Dean mentioned giving Jack a proper hunter's funeral, Sam could not keep his poker face any longer. Walking away from his angel friend and big brother, he went directly towards his room. Sam knew he couldn't stay in the bunker while Jack were still dead in his bed. He needed some fresh air and adrenaline to let all the anger and sadness go away for a few hours. Dean would not allow him to get drunk on his own in a bar or hurt himself, so he would have to leave when he were not in sight. Sam considered taking Cass' car, but the Impala seem to be the best option. Once he packed everything in his old duffel bag, including the blade, still hidden inside the book, he tiptoed his way towards the main door of the place he called home. The door was louder than he remembered when manipulating it, so he hurried his way to the car. Dean hid the keys inside one of the cabinets of the kitchen, mainly to keep it away from everyone, including his own brother. To be honest with himself, the place where his brother hid the keys was a place that Sam rarely reached for something, since the elder brother was the one that cooked for them these days, however, his sibling was not aware that he knew it. Being a silent and observant person was not so bad now that he thought about it.

He'd have his ass kicked when he came back to the bunker,there was no doubt about it, but that wouldn't hurt as much as Jack's death did. He'd take the consequences without bitching about it. What he had been thinking for the last few weeks made him a be a walking mess, but physical pain made him stop feeling numb when nothing else worked. He felt pain, he felt what was real. When self harming, he could not sense the mental pain that blinded him from what was important. Seeing the blood pouring out of the wound was a relieving feel. He'd wipe it off, making pressure on the fresh cut, seeing more blood sorrounding the area, that action releasing adrenaline to keep it clean until it stop bleeding. To his eyes, it felt like a child being amazed by the smallest and meaningless things. The more the cut bled, the better. Wiping it off with a handkerchief made him feel that he was in control of the situation. He could control something as irrelevant but important as his life. Some people would say he hurt his body cause he wanted to kill himself, but that was far from the truth. It was a way he found to cope with his toxic thoughts. It was a way to find the strenght he needed to keep on fighting.

Sam drove for three long hours before he booked a motel room with two king beds, threw the duffel bag on the floor and sat on the nearest bed he found. He was extremely tired, but he had to do it. He had to take that blade and see his own blood escaping his body, and for that, he had to be alone, without his protective big brother trying to stop him.

Sam was not dumb. There was a high chance that Dean would find him before he went back home, even though he turned the GPS off his cellphone. He knew his brother would do it, even if it was the last thing he did. Maybe he wanted to be found, to be comforted. It was a selfish act from his part, but he couldn't help himself. The three of them had lost Jack, and he was gonna create another problem for them. He was a pathetic and damn bastard that always thought of himself when things could not be fixed. Cass and Dean loved the kid too, but there was one thing they would never understand about his relationship with Jack.

Jack was the person he had been able to save from a dark destiny warned about before he was even born. Since he couldn't save himself from being addicted to demon blood, losing his brother's trust, or being possessed by Lucifer, he tried to save Jack for a change. Luckily, it was a big succes for the both of them. Jack had been a naive boy who wanted to have a normal life, to save people and be loved by his family. Destiny granted him with all of that, but it all came with a high price. He should have died instead of him.

Anxiety started to consume Sam, so he decided that it was time to do it. He could resist no more. Taking the blade from the duffel bag, he sliced his warm and soft skin, creathing one new horizontal line, deeper than the ones that were healing. He didn't reach any veins, so he would be okay. Sam could breathe again as another cut decorated his scarred arm. Everything would be okay. It had to if he was going to survive another hit.

All of the sudden, an idea crossed his mind. Maybe he could bring Jack back. All it would take to perform it was some pills, and consequently, Billie. She was now the main reaper, and he could make a deal with her. It didn't matter if he had to die. Jack was gonna be okay.

 **TBC...**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! This a topic I needed to write about it. If you want me to continue this fic, please review! Love you**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

" _If love is a form of substance abuse, I hope to die high."_

― _Crystal Woods, Write like no one is reading 2_

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Sam got up and reached for a towel, making pressure on the angry red cut that was bleeding more than the ones he was used to inflict on himself those days.

A couple minutes passed, anxiety still running through his mind as he tried to hurry up. Sam knew that his brother would noticed his absence anytime now, so it was matter of time before his cellphone started ringing repeatedly without a break from his part. He would not answer, since he could barely breathe. A panic attack was consuming the air in his lungs, making it hard to see clear or even think clear if he were honest with himself. Perhaps he should answer that call, even though he didnd't want to. Maybe he had to let his brother know he was okay, so he would leave him alone. If he did that, he would be safe from his torturous questions; questions that he knew he wouldn't be able to answer correctly without breaking in tears. Everything would be alright. Jack would be okay too, soon.

Jack would be breathing fresh air soon, whether Dean were happy with it or not with that decision. It would not be the kid's fault after all. It was his job to look after him. He was the one that saw him when he was just born, and he was the one that saw him die too. They were, somehow, bonded due to destiny's choices to make the good look bad; the good ones always taking bad choices for the ones they loved as rule number one to be a valid member. It had always been his job to look after him. Just like Dean knew it was his job to look after him, his pain in the ass little brother, too. Maybe he could make things better for everyone. Dean and Cass would be a broken mess, but they would have to understand. In the end, sacrifices had to be made for family. That kid lying still and cold in one of the bunker's beds was part of the family. The three of them knew that, but of course, there was no other choice but to sacrifice himself for his kid's life if nothing else worked. It was worth it, and he would do it a thousand times if he had to. Even if Dean would never forgive him.

When the cut stopped bleeding, Sam grabbed a bottle with pills on it. They helped with headaches and insomnia. Those were the only pills he had, so they would have to work. Emptying all the content on his hand, Sam counted the pills. They were around twenty-five pills. Those would have to be enough. The flashbacks of the times where he wanted to die and join Dean in hell hit him, however, he quickly cleared his mind. He had a job to do, for God's sake!

With the pills in one hand and a glass with water on the other one, Sam attempted to swallow all of them together. Let's just say it didn't end well. Sam chocked and most of the, now, wet sticky pills, were on his hand again.

Sam laughed bitterly and thought how actors could pretend to swallow so many pills on the movies. It wasn't even easy to think about it. His mouth was left with a bitter taste, the typical taste that death leaves to the ones left behind.

Fifteen minutes after he was done taking them, his cellphone rang, almost making him jump off the bed.

It was Dean. He didn't even need to see the caller to know that it was his big brother freaking out about him. Guilt came back. He should be by his brother's side, looking after him, but now it was too late. He had done it. He had taken the pills and there was no turning back.

He meant to take the first call, but it went straight to voicemail. He was about to listen to it when his cellphone started ringing again. He quickly accepted the call, before the pills made the full affect and he fell unconscious.

 _"Dean"_

 _"-NO CASS! HE'S NOT FREAKING ANSWERI- SAM! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!_ " yelled Dean, angry and worried sick about his brother

 _"Dee, I'm... okay. I just need some time alone. That's all", answered_ Sam, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

 _"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? TAKE YOUR FREAKING ASS BACK HERE OR I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!"_ said Dean, this time, more serious. It actually scared Sam to hear him yell at him like that. He hadn't heard that voice since he started the apocalypse and it hurt to admit that his brother only used that voice when he was seriously pissed with him.

" _Dee, I can't come ba-"_

Sam couldn't finish the answer, since he felt sick. Standing up from a comfortable sitting position, he ran towards the bathroom, opened the door and knelt in front of the toilet. He could hear Dean's worried voice, but all he could do was retch, try to take a deep breath, and keep expelling all the contents of his stomach against his will.

At some point, the pills' effects started to really kick in, so he closed his eyes and his elaborated breaths became more obvious to the elder brother, who was on the other side of the screen, screaming at his brother for his attention.

"SAM! SAMMY" ANSWER ME, MAN! DAMMIT! COME ON, SAMMY!" yelled Dean, now desperate to hear his brother's voice.

Luckily for him, Sam had a moment of clarity, where he listened to his brother's voice. He barely heard it, though. It felt like being underwater, all of his senses capturing everything in a distorted way.

" _Dee",_ said Sam, feeling groggy

" _Sammy, where are you man? We found a way to help Jack. Remember Lily Sunder? She's gonna help us bring him back, and I need you to be here for when the kid wakes up. Please Sammy. I AM BEGGING YOU!"_

" _I d'nt know wh're I am… Can't r'memb'r. Sorry Dee",_ apologized Sam, starting to sob. Then it hit him. He was gonna die, and Dean would never forgive him. He would die and Jack would feel guilty if Lily could bring him back. He would DIE.

" _Can you turn your GPS on for me, kiddo? You can do it. I will help you if you let me. Sammy, you there, little brother?"_

Sam decided to focus all of his energy on turning the GPS back on for his brother to find him, if it wasn't too late. With the little strength he had left, he turned it on, ended the call, fell to the floor and retched one more time. Lying in a pool of his own vomit, Sam closed his eyes, now unconscious.

 **Author's note: Hey guys! This chapter was so intense for me to write! Hope you enjoy it! If you want me to continue, please, review**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

" _Horace normally didn't need anyone else to save his life. He was pretty skilled at doing it for himself."_

― _John Flanagan, The Emperor of Nihon-Ja_

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Dean parked the Impala, and kicked the motel's door wide open, knowing that Sam wouldn't be able to receive him this time.

He had lost contact with his little brother over an thirty minutes ago, however, he hadn't ended the call, just in case he woke up again.

While driving, he would talk to his baby brother, cause he was sure he, somehow, could hear his voice, and obey him sometime. Naturally, it didn't happen, but the high hopes stayed until the very end of the short road trip.

"Sammy, I'm coming for you right now, little brother. Stay strong, you hear me? If you die, I will kick your ass, even from heaven if I have to, so you will get tired and will eventually come back to the land of the living..." _You will come back to me_

"You know I am not kidding this time, so you better be breathing right now, you bitch" said Dean; his voice sounding serious, trying not break the neutral mask he was wearing as he drove full speed through the highway.

Why did the kid go so far away from him to do this? He, deep down, knew it, but he couldn't accept the reasons why he did whatever he chose to do to himself. They would have to have a serious talk when the Sammy woke up, or Dean would have a freaking heart attack, and this time, he would be the one hurt, pissed at his baby brother for running away and messing with his own soul.

 _"You could have come to me, Sammy. There was no need to do whatever you did, which by the way, is probably not good and I am worried sick about your freaking ass right now. Jack will come back, kiddo. He needs you... I do need you too, okay?"_ Dean admitted to the other line on phone with a single tear sliding down his face, tr _ying_ not _to_ sob. He had to be strong for Sam. He had to save his life, cause Sammy's soul was part of him too, and if he failed at saving him, he'd be dead too.

When he finally got access inside the room, he inspected it as fast as he could. He, literally, had no time to lose now. Sam was hurting. Sam could be...

 _No._

 _Sammy would be okay_. _Nothing bad would happen to him. Not today, not ever._

Sam was nowhere to be found in the main room, so he had to be in the only room he had yet to go see. The bathroom.

Dean ran towards the small room, tried to open the door, but found it being blocked by something, or someone, better said, judging by seeing Sam's legs spread on the tiny bathroom floor. The elder Winchester called Sammy's name over and over again as he tried desperately to take the door off the frame. Some good kicks would make it, however, he had to hurry and focus on his strength one more time. He was tired of fighting the hunting life. He was tired of losing people, specially the ones he loved the most. Jack was gonna come back by the time he arrived to the bunker, but that didn't change the fact that he had died in front of them, slowly and painfully, coughing up blood. He watched Cass and Sammy die too. Therefore, things had to be different for them . This time, everything would be better. No more deaths or possessions. No more tears. If he wanted to stay sane, he needed peace and happiness in his life, the kind of happiness that filled the void inside him.

Dean gave the door one last kick and the door fell apart. He catched the broken wooden pieces before some of them would land on the limp figure that was his brother, and threw them behind him, on the main room.

The first thing he noticed was the smell of vomit and the blood on the floor, which freaked the hell out of him. Where was so much blood coming from? He kneeled next to his brother and checked him out. His whole body was covered in sweat, his skin was pale, his body temperature was high, and his lips and fingers were blue. To add as the cherry on top of the cake, he had a severe difficulty to breathe properly. Every time he inhaled, a gurgling sound could be heard, and if he were honest with himself, it sounded messed up. Sam was dying, but he didn't know what happened, or how to help him get better on his own.

"Sammy? Sam! Hey, I am here, okay? Hang on. I'll get you help, little brother" said Dean as he called the 911, knowing that he wouldn't be able to carry his brother's dead weight to the Impala and drive him to a hospital in time to save him.

Once he told them what was going on, the direction and number of the room Sam was in, he ended the call, he turned his brother around to face him, and he saw it. How come he didn't see it before? He must have been in a shock state or something to miss something so obvious like that. It was not too deep, but it was deep enough to almost make him expel the lunch he had had that morning out of his body.

Thick and thin cuts decored his brother's arms, and some fresh ones were just starting to coagulate. Most of the cuts seem to be older, like weeks old, so there was no doubt that Sammy had been self-harming behind his back. His brother had been hurting himself and he hadn't been there to stop it. Guilt hit him in the face, making him embrace the present situation with deadly desperation. He failed Sam. If he had asked how he was doing instead of acting tough like John taught him to be, Sammy would have talked to him. He probably thought he would consider that a chick-flick moment, but he was wrong. Dean knew his brother too well, so why didn't he see this coming with all the tragedies that were going on since Jack got sick, or even before that? If he had cared enough, he would have seen how much Sam was struggling to hide the scars on the hunts, keeping them away from his view with the long sleeve flannels they always used, even during the summer.

Minutes passed, and the ambulance arrived. He was never aware of their presence, at least not until a paramedic moved him out of the way and carried his brother out of the small room, so they could work on saving him.

He wanted to move and see what they were doing to him, but all he could do was see the blood, his little brother's blood, on the floor and hear the screams in the other room coming from the doctors.

"Male in his thirties. Signs of suicide attempt. He cut his wrists and there are clear signs of overdose. We're taking him to the ER right now. Wait for us" said one of the paramedics.

 _SUICIDE ATTEMPT? OVERDOSE?_ That could not be possible. Sammy was not the kind of man that was suicidal. How come...?

Dean forced himself to get up from the floor and see what was happening in the other room. With shaky legs, he walked in to see Sam in a stretcher, being carried away by a two male doctors. He ran as fast as he could to reach him, when one paramedic stopped him.

"Excuse me, young man. You don't look so good. Do you need medical attention?" asked the doctor, clearly worried about him

"M-My brother... He's gonna be alright?" said Dean, feeling dizzy, still wanting to throw up his last meal.

The doctor held him when he fell forward; his feet losing the capacity of holding his body's weight.

"S'mmy" whispered Dean, being that the last word before he lost consciousness.

 **TBC...**

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey guys! So, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. If you really want me to** **continue writing this fic, please review. There's only one episode left anyway. Hope you enjoy the update. Love ya!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _"Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it."_

— _Terry Pratchett (Reaper Man (Discworld, #11; Death, #2))_

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Sam woke up feeling soul tired, finding himself in another nameless motel room.

Where was he this time? Where was Dean humming Metallica songs in the mornings like he always did to annoy him when he needed it the most? It actually helped him through the bad days, even if he didn't tell his brother so.

Sam got up from his bed confused, knowing that something was really wrong after his brother was not answering to his calls. The bathroom was empty, and so was the parking lot, with no Impala in sight. His brother was nowhere to be found, which meant he was on his own again. This couldn't be happening. What if Michael found him again and his big brother was still out there, being Michael's puppet? Dean had to be okay, right? He started sweating as he put his pants on, ready to brush his teeth and go look for his brother, wherever he were right now, skipping breakfast. He wasn't hungry anyways. He had lost a couple of pounds while trying to find his brother, however, he only noticed it when his mother mentioned it once he was shirtless.

"Dammit, Dean" cursed Sam quietly as got ready as fast as he could, ignoring the happy sounds coming from the other room. He did not have time to lose, making them shut up. There were more important things going on, even though he was a little cranky because of those damn sounds.

He would drive to the bunker and get some help from Jack and the apocalypse survivors, including Bobby, if he wasn't hanging out with Mary. This time, he couldn't do things alone. He needed help to get his brother back.

He was about to go out when he felt a headache that didn't let him move. It hurt like the headaches he had when he was having visions. What he saw was different than a vision, though...

 _The cut stopped bleeding_

 _He grabbed a bottle with pills on it._

 _When he was done taking them, his cellphone rang_

 _It was Dean._

 _He didn't even need to see the caller to know that it was his big brother freaking out about him._

 _Guilt came back._

 _Jack died_

 _He passed out in a motel bathroom, all alone._

 _He wanted to make a deal with death to get Jack back. That was all that mattered._

The younger Winchester started to freak out, not knowing what to do when the flashbacks of the present problems were aimed and shot at his chest, making it hard to breathe. Perhaps, he had to pinch himself and call his brother and let him know he was okay after all he had done, cause Dean would kill him when he came back to the bunker. He tried pinching himself, but it didn't work. Again, Dean was right. Movies were just too fancy and stupid when it came to represent real life situations. Panic invaded him as he felt his pulse increasing faster and faster. What the hell was going on? He seemed to be trapped in some sort of dream, cause no one answered his calls, specially Dean, no matter how many times he pressed the green button, hoping to hear his big brother's voice one more time.

Sam was freaking out, however, he stopped his actions when he felt he was not alone in the room anymore. Growing up as a hunter taught him that he had to trust his instincts, even if it was the last thing he did. John and Dean had been right to taught him that. It turned out that he was right.

"He won't answer the call, Samuel" said the reaper Billie from behind his back.

Sam turned around fast as his heart skipped a beat. Why was Billie there if he was alright? It made no sense!

"Why are you here?" Asked Sam, his voice sounding a little shaky.

"You know why I am here" responded the reaper as if it were obvious to Sam what was happening

Although, if he could see the reaper Billie, it meant one thing, and one thing only...

He was dying or was dead already. She came to collect his soul.

Was this all a dream then? It sure felt real and painful as it was to live the hunting life, dealing with loss and long hangovers that never ended. Sam was pretty sure he was dying, now.

"Now I know why the call you the smart one, Samuel Winchester. Before you ask, yes, I can read your mind here. It is a little trick we, the reapers, get to have when we come to pick up a soul" explained the reaper, calm and with a smile on her face, pleased with its job.

Sam was speechless for a moment, analyzing everything she said, before he remembered the reason why he did what he did in first place.

"I wanna make a deal" mumbled Sam, still in shock by the situation.

"Was I not clear when I mentioned I wouldn't be making you anymore favors to you or your brother, Samuel?" said Billie, clearly irritated to be hearing the word "deal" ,coming out of the younger hunter's mouth.

"I know, but... Please, I need you to listen to me... Jack, our kid, died. Dean wants to burn his body, but I can't let him do that. We need him back, so I don't care if I have to die to bring him back to life. I-I just need him, please..." begged the younger hunter, knowing that it was the only way he would get something out of Billie, who had no love for the Winchester brothers.

"And why would I do this for you? If I am not mistaken, your deals always end up hurting innocent people, even though you don't seek that decision" mentioned Billie, studying her opponent's eyes, seeing only a broken soul in front of her.

"You can send me to hell if you want to. You can do whatever you want to my soul, but please... Bring him back and take me instead. I'm begging you, Billie!" said Sam, trying to contain the tears in his glassy eyes. He couldn't cry. At least not in front of her.

"I'd still say no, even if that Nephilim of yours would be the last creature who could save the world, Samuel. I am afraid that you are not the only one trying to bring the Nephilim back to life... Your friend, Castiel and the witch Rowena are going to try it too, and as far as I see, they will be pretty lucky to do so... You are not that lucky though, cause this time I ain't letting you go." mentioned the reaper, showing him what was going on in real life.

 _Sam was lying in a hospital bed as doctors were working on him. He was pale, sweaty and his pulse was erratic._

 _"Nurse, prepare the patient for a stomach lavage. We don't have time to lose" yelled the doctor as the nurses were rushing their way in to help him_

 _Sam saw himself dying as many hands touched his limp body. He gagged when they introduced the tube through his mouth, but that was not the worst thing that was happening. His heart was pumping faster as seconds flew by, trying to recover, even after the blood loss that the cutting caused. Sam saw his wrists, and realized he did go too far this time. The cuts were not like the others he inflicted on himself. This ones were deeper than he imagined._

"Im dying" Sam said aloud, realizing how screwed he really was.

Billie didn't say a word as the doctors kept working on him, checking his vitals, worrying his heart might stop due to the pressure it was working under.

 _Minutes passed, and he saw himself code, as the doctors prepared themselves to bring him back. Sam didn't think he could feel anymore pain, but the defibrillator made him see the stars._

 _"He's not responding! Charge again!" said one of the doctors_

"Well, Sam Winchester. You go and enjoy your life while you can, cause next time you see me, your soul will be mine" said Billie, vanishing into thin air, leaving him alone in the motel room again.

He didn't understand what she meant by that, but he would soon enough.

 _After three minutes of no positive results, Sam was back._

 _ **TBC…**_

 _ **AUTHOR'S NOTE: HEY GUYS! LONG TIME NO SEE! THANK YOU FOR THE AWESOME REVIEWS AND LOVE. I REALLY APPRECIATE IT ❤️ HERE'S ANOTHER CHAPTER FOR Y'ALL. HOPE YOU ENJOY AND DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW TO LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THIS NEW CHAPTER ️**_


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _"When truth is replaced by silence, the silence is a lie."_

 _― Yevgeny Yevtushenko_

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When Sam woke up, the first thing he became aware of, were the sounds. They were too many of them to focus on a particular one, actually. The world was a weird place to live in, full of faceless shadows and voices that called his name, his real name. Who was talking to him? He didn't know those voices, or the source of them.

BIP

BIP

BIP

BIP

BIP

A minute passed, and he was able to recognize the sound of a heart rate monitor. Its pitchy sound was constant, irritating the younger Winchester.

Seconds later, he opened his eyes, since it was pretty much dark in room apart from a small night light by his side that was breaking the harmony. He felt alright to move, little did he know, because he was hooked to an IV with meds on it.

Everything that was in the distance, he saw blurry, and when he looked down to check himself, he became aware of the IV on his arm, also recognizing the heart monitor sounds as his heart ones. Sam figured out that he was in a hospital room, with an empty chair next to his bed, and it was dark out there. How long had he been unconscious for? Did that matter anyways? He was still alive, and that was a huge mistake. He could hear the crickets sing to the moon out there as the rest of the world slept in their beds or watched TV, strangers to his bad luck. He missed the old days where he slept in the Impala through the night, ignoring the problems, drinking some beers with his brother as he played his tapes with 80's music on them, those same tapes that he learned to like as the years passed by.

When he raised his arms in the air with a little smile on his face, probably cause he was still under the effect of a very powerful drug that kept him calm and funny, he saw his injured arm being covered by a thick white bandage. Underneath, the cuts he inflicted on himself itched and hurt every time he rubbed the hurt area with it.

He wondered how the wound actually looked like, but the younger hunter decided not to peek and see something he didn't really want to see. Even though he was still groggy, he remembered clearly taking those pills, feeling sick of his stomach and retching before passing out, leaving his brother worried sick about him as he told him he was not feeling good. The thing about being groggy is that he couldn't care enough yet about the sudden events. It seemed like he was in heaven. The weight of the world was not resting on his shoulders for a minute, and it felt good. Another smile crossed his face as he relaxed his body. He felt good.

Before he could even wonder where was his brother, Dean appeared in the door frame with food on his hand. Sam's smile faded away. Suddenly, he was not so groggy anymore. Reality hit the door open and the wave that came through that same door caught him off guard. He realized then that he could barely look at his elder brother. He felt guilty for failing at what he thought would end his life. It was killing him. He could barely breathe around him, let alone say a damn word.

What could he say to his brother to make things better? "I'm Sorry I tried to kill myself?" "I didn't mean it?" Nothing would make him understand why he did what he did. He had to let time do what it usually did. Take the good and bad moments away to its own private collection of his greatest mistakes.

Sam cleared his throat and looked down, waiting for Dean to enter into the room to say something, anything at all.

Truth was that Dean didn't know what to say neither. He had gone to get some coffee and donuts, clearly not expecting to see his brother awake when he came back to the room.

"Hey Sammy" said Dean, with a forced smile and tension expressed in his body.

Sam did not answer. He couldn't make out the words to say sorry, to explain what what going on inside his mind, and he knew his brother would want to know everything sooner or later.

"Do you want water or something to eat I got donuts. You could use some calories, you know?... I shouldn't be telling you this, but there's a

nurse that laid your eyes on you last night. Don't worry, she's human Sammy. When you get out of here, you are both two grown adults and you know..." mentioned Dean, avoiding the elephant in the room.

"Dean" mumbled Sam, teary-eyed and starting to feel how a panic attack was coming down his way.

The elder Winchester saw how Sam's heart beats started to accelerate through the heart rate monitor, and without losing a second, he ran by his little brother's side, placing his hands on his shaking shoulders after dropping the food on the nearest place he found.

"Hey Sammy. What's wrong?" Asked the elder brother, worried sick about his little brother

"I'm sorry Dee… I was trying to save Jack from death, but I can't remember anything. I-I was trying to be useful to you and Castiel but I am not-" Sam just started talking, letting it all out.

"Is that really what you think? You son of a bitch!" yelled Dean, interrupting him.

Dean grabbed Sam by his shoulders and shook him violently. He was not just pissed. He was furious and wanting to beat the sense out of his little brother.

"DO YOU THINK YOU ARE NOT USEFUL? DO YOU THINK YOU ARE NOT THE MOST IMPORTANT PERSON TO ME? I WOULD TRADE MY LIFE FOR YOU AND ONLY YOU, YOU ASSHOLE. I CAN LIVE WITHOUT JACK, WITHOUT MOM OR CASS, BUT I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT YOU! YOU HEAR ME?" said Dean, still holding a tight grip onto Sam's shoulders.

Sam was now looking at him, teary eyed, feeling like the man he was after he lost Jess, having Dean's back despite feeling like he didn't deserve it after all the things he had done.

He felt loved, even if his shoulders hurt a bit.

There was a moment of silence, and then, the tight grip turned into a hug. Dean was actually hugging him! He didn't deserve to be hugged. He deserved to punched in the face or worse, but for some reason, he had the best big brother ever. Sam felt like a child that needed his elder brother to feel good again. Perhaps he did, but in that moment, he wasn't ashamed of was just... happy.

"I'm so sorry, Dean" whispered Sam, almost sobbing, knowing that Dean could hear him.

"I know you are, Sammy. Don't you ever do this again, or I'll have to join you and kick your ass, this time as a ghost" murmured Dean, still not letting Sam go.

Sam accepted Dean's food, realizing how hungry he actually was.

"See? I told ya that some calories would do good on that thin body of yours!" said Dean with a genuine smile on his face

Sam nodded quietly as he finished eating, but suddenly, the memory of Jack popped in his mind. Jack was still dead. He was glad to be with his brother, but he couldn't save the young Nephilim.

Dean quickly noticed the mood change in Sam's face, so he asked what was going on.

"What did you do with... Jack's body?" asked Sam in a whisper, as if he were afraid of the word death. He should be, though. Death took away everything he loved more times than he could count them. Now, Jack was gone forever, and with him, the love he felt for a child, practically the child he raised along with Dean and Castiel. It was another pain spasm to his broken soul. He should have gotten used to it, but see, who gets used to see their loved ones die?

"Jack's fine, Sam. He's alive... Rowena made a spell to revive him. I will explain everything you need to know later on, but for now, you need to get some rest. You were seriously ill, man. I almost lost you. If I hadn't... found you in time, you would have died"

Sam looked down, and the silence filled the room again. He didn't know how he was gonna tell Sam this. It'd be soul crushing for him. What if...

No. Sam would live. He would keep fighting without him. He had to, or he would come back and kick his ass. Sammy would never let him go, but it was time for him to do so. He had to do this like it or not.

Dean paced his way down to the cafeteria, bitting his nails, or what was left of them anyway. He'd lived a life to remember. He'd been a hunter, a brother, a son, and now he would have to become a monster again. He'd have to break his brother's heart, so he wouldn't want to see him anymore. When it came to Sammy, he was the most overprotective man someone could see. He'd leave a note though. Technically, it was not cheating the deal that he pacted with the demon just a few hours ago. It was just a letter to let his brother know how much he actually loved him. It was a letter to let the words that would resonate in his mind die, so his little brother would live in peace.

Dean saw the clock as his breathe was shallow and fast. He had one hour left before the deal was over. It was time to go to Sam's room.

 **Author's Note: Hey guys! Long time no see! I write this chapter for y'all, so you can enjoy it as much as I did writing it :) Please, review if you can! Reviews are love!**

 **See ya soon!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 _"Going away won't change anything if you're running from yourself."_

― Joyce Rachelle

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Dean made his way to his little brother's hospital room, analyzing every single weak spot of Sam's. Unfortunately,he knew where to hit him without needing a fist to make him hurt. Time was running out, and he needed to be on his way out as soon as possible. The plan was not easy, but he would make it work.

When he saw Sam's warm smile towards him, he felt sick. Was he really gonna break his little brother's heart right now? The elder hunter knew that the answer was yes, if it meant saving his brother's life. There was no doubt about that.

"Dean? What's wrong?" asked Sam, knowing by his brother's tense body that something was clearly not right. He thought he had forgiven him after all he had done, although he could be wrong.

"What's wrong with me? Do you really wanna know that, Sam?" asked Dean in a harsh tone. He saw his younger brother flinch. Damnt it. This was hurting a lot more than he expected.

Sam said nothing, but stared at his elder brother with puppy dog eyes. He did wanna know. He just didn't wanna hear it coming from his brother's mouth.

"You are what's wrong, Sam. I tried to play cool with you, to make you feel good, but you don't deserve that privilege. You tried to kill yourself and didn't even think about me, man! That's just a selfish act. With everything I had going on my head you wanted to add more drama and death to my life? You still are that same selfish bastard that left me in the middle of the night to find dad in 2005, did you know that?"

Dean stared at his brother in the eyes, seeing the tears sliding down to their chin and onto his hospital gown. He made his baby brother cry, and he would punish himself severely for that.

"You got nothing to say now, huh?... I should have expected that from you. You just keep crying. Maybe someone will feel sympathy for you, and will hug you like you always fix things, right? I'm done with you, Sam. I'm going away from here without your heavy ass on my shoulders, and if I catch you trying to follow me, I'll put a bullet through your damn leg. Is that understood?" asked Dean, using his father's voice when he was mad at his younger son.

Sam nodded slowly and looked down. He should have been smarter. Hurting Dean the way he did had its costs, and those were the ones what he just witnessed. Dean was right to say all those things to him. He was the weak one, the one that always tried to run away when a problem was near his broken soul. Suddenly, his scars itched from behind the heavy bandages he was wearing on his arm. He wanted to cut himself. He wanted to make things right, but he knew he couldn't undo his mistakes. He was a walking mess, and didn't deserve his brother's company any longer.

Without lying a hand on him, his elder brother destroyed him and left him indefense and hurting on the floor. He watched his elder brother leave, while he could do nothing but stare at him. Dean wasn't possessed, he told to himself over and over again once he was alone. He was just being honest for the first time since he was a little boy.

Deciding that it was time to leave the hospital, he ripped the IV off his arm, changed himself into his normal clothes,even though he was still pretty loopy from the drugs they administrated him to do so, and washed his face before heading off the hospital.

Stealing a car wasn't hard. He had been doing it for years if he was honest with himself. It was one of the first things he learned once he started going on hunting trips. He would go to the bunker, get some clothes, and leave his loved ones alone. Causing more pain to them was not an option anymore. He was going to drive to somewhere where he could be alone to live the rest of his days isolated from the world. That was the first good idea he had had in a long time.

Sam wanted to call his brother, but he knew better than that. Giving him some space would, possibly, make things better between them.

Things were a mess, but again, it was the Winchesters's life.

 **Author's note** **: Hey guys! I finally updated this fic, huh? Leave a review if you want me to continue this fic :)**


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